I awake late in the morning. The sun is mercifully hidden behind the clouds this morning, and my head is no longer resting on Draco's chest. As I sit up, and see him sitting in the arm chair, reading the morning paper. It's the only way he knows what's happing in the world... besides from me. I sometimes wonder if he ever regrets coming with me, but he never wants to talk about it. I'm sure it haunts his dreams, but he'll never tell me.

He looks up as I rub the sleep out of my eyes.

'Good morning, sunshine.'

'Good morning,' I say, smiling sadly when I see the papers infront of him on the coffee table. 'Are those ...'

'I made you some breakfast,' he interrupts. Getting up, he walks into the kitchen. I watch him go, admiring the way he wears his sweats so ...

'I hope you still like lots of syrup on them,' he calls from the kitchen. I giggle, and he re-enters the living room carrying the same TV tray he's always used.

'Okay, I've never used this recipe yet, but I had some before you woke up, and I haven't felt any weird things going on in my stomach, so I figure –'

'Draco!' I say, as he's rambling, like he always does first thing in the morning. 'Just let me eat it.'

He smiles that smile, again, and I melt. Just like the butter has on these... pancakes? I look up at him confused.

'I was being creative,' he says shyly, shrugging.

'Creativity is a good thing,' I tell him, causing him to grin. I love it when he's happy.

I'm halfway done the pan-fles, as we dubbed them, when he came over and sat next to me. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he kissed my neck. I flushed, as I always have, and probably always will.

'We need to talk about it,' he whispered softly, and my hands began to shake.

'I know.'

'Where did you want to start?' he asked quietly, and I placed the fork and knife down.

'With the baby.'

'But you said –'

'And then you mentioned adopting,' I remind him, and looking in his eyes I see that spark again.

'Then we need to decide a couple things,' he says, authoritative, taking control, knowing that I'm liable to fall apart at any moment. 'First of all,' he continues, getting up and moving to the papers on the coffee table, we need to choose an –'

'You've researched this?' I ask disbelievingly.

'I couldn't sleep,' he says quickly, as though it was a bad thing. 'Anyways, we need to pick a gender and age group.' He looks at me for the answer, as though we are still in Hogwarts, working on a Potion's assignment.

'What would you like?' I ask him.

'Whatever you want,' he says, as though it was a non-issue. I sigh.

'How about,' I say slowly, hoping that this works, 'you write down what you want, I write down what I want, and we pick the median.'

'Sounds good,' he says, handing me a piece of paper and a pen.

We sit in silence for about five minutes before we look up at each other.

'Girl,' I say.

'Boy.'

'Toddler.'

'Adolescent.'

I sigh. Once again, our views are completely different.

'There's more adolescent boys in need of parents,' Draco says matter-of-factly. I smile. He knows I'll cave no matter what.

'Okay, where do we sign?'

Draco grins.

Two hours later, with the adoption papers finally filled out, Draco collapsed next to me on the couch. He was so adorable, with his blonde hair messed up, standing on end after he had run his hands through it so many times when we disagreed on something. As I laid myself down on his chest, he wrapped his arms around me. I always feel safe when he does this, and so I reach up to kiss him lightly on the lips. He pulls me closer, which only leads to more kissing.

'Let's go down the hall,' he whispers against my lips as we both gasp for breath.

'Okay,' I whisper back, pulling him up off the couch. We stumble blindly down the hall to our bedroom and fall upon the mattress.